


Last Chance Saloon

by hiddenhibernian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Severus Snape Fest 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5755120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenhibernian/pseuds/hiddenhibernian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The future is a cold and lonely place. Narcissa and Severus conspire to make sure it doesn't happen</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Chance Saloon

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to kerravonsen for the fantastic prompt. I was very fortunate to have two betas, digthewriter and williamsnickers, who were very generous with their time and efforts. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

**Last Chance Saloon**

Most of the dark-cloaked figures shuffled out after the meeting, careful not to make eye contact with their fellow conspirators. There were a few muffled cracks, followed by the customary yelp from Bradshaw when he picked up his Portkey and disappeared. He got travel sick, which was doubly unfortunate considering he'd never managed to master Apparition either.

Narcissa remembered he was a Hufflepuff – all good intentions and poor execution. 

It wasn't Bradshaw and his repeated failures to keep his anonymity though that kept her waiting in the dingy bar, perched on a rickety bar stool with a vinyl covering that probably was older than her. 

If Narcissa knew anything about the leader of their little group, he'd make sure he was the last to leave. If he was who she thought he was, of course. It had taken her longer than it should have had to figure that out. She should have recognised his style – targeted raids, superior intelligence and never, ever as much as hinting that there was a living, breathing human being behind his nondescript black cloak. Which incidentally didn't billow at all at their meetings, which only went to show that not every man was as vain as Lucius. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” a rough voice said in her ear, and despite decades of conditioning Narcissa jumped. She almost knocked over her glass of gin and tonic before recovering herself. 

“I could say the same,” she replied, steadfastly refusing to turn around. “I didn't realise other people were playing both sides, as it were.” 

“It's one of the virtues of our house to make sure you're always covered, isn't it?” said a much smoother, very familiar voice, and if Narcissa had been her son she would have punched the air in triumph. “No matter which way the wind may turn.” 

“Indeed. Although, laying oneself open to a charge of treason isn't exactly covering yourself,” she pointed out. 

“But that only applies if you get caught,” Severus said, raising one eyebrow as he slid onto the bar stool next to hers. “I can assure you I have no intention of that.” 

She glanced down on the silvery sliver of a ring on his long, bony index finger. If you looked closely, you could see the head of the snake devouring its own tail. The ouroboros, she remembered from distant Care of Magical Creatures lessons. As she watched it, noticing the tiny emerald eyes of the snake for the first time, it flickered from view and disappeared. Severus Snape would hardly wear the symbol of the most successful rebel group since Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' demise to Death Eater meetings. 

“Fitting, wouldn't you agree?” Severus asked, and as usual his tone of voice left no clue at all to what he was thinking. 

“Very,” she conceded. The snake eating itself – it was them, wasn't it? Thirty years ago, they'd been so sure they were part of the glorious future of Britain, which would rise triumphantly as it cast off its Muggle shackles. 

Narcissa didn't want that future anymore, not for her grandchildren. She couldn't say what had changed Severus' mind, but she rather suspected it went further back than her own recent conversion. He wasn't a man to change course easily; once he had made up his mind, he tended to stick with his decisions through pure pigheadedness. 

She wished she had paid more attention to him at school – she suspected that both his initial declaration for the Dark Lord and his volte-face had begun then, but she had been too busy admiring Lucius and trying to keep up with Bella that she'd had time for little else. 

Although there were some things she did know about Severus Snape. No matter how he despised the stupidity of the general population, he would go to remarkable lengths to save it from their master's wrath. Muggle or magical didn't seem to make a difference, either – not anymore. Narcissa Malfoy had seen enough of war to recognise the battle-weary look of those who had seen too many people die. 

She saw it in the mirror every morning. 

“I have tracked the sixth one down. It's in your sister's keeping,” Severus dispassionately informed her, as if he was talking about the latest Quidditch results. 

The sixth Horcrux – the only one they'd still been searching for... One piece of the Dark Lord's soul had expired with the unfortunate Potter boy, while most of the others were destroyed by the Order of the Ouroboros in the last few years. Assuming Snape had a plan for destroying the sixth Horcrux, that only left Nagini. Narcissa was positively itching to finally dispatch the beast to kingdom come. She approved of snakes in principle, but she drew the line at having one living in her house. 

“I think that's worthy of a toast.” She raised her chipped glass to him, swallowing the last sip. It was mostly gin, and the taste sent her straight back to when she was a young girl, sneaking a hidden bottle of gin to wizarding balls to drink in the lav with the other debutantes. 

Althea Rosier, Seraphina Yaxley, Felicity Prewett, and Christabel Abbott. And Andromeda, of course, before – they were mostly dead now, in any case. Dead, or turned into someone unrecognisable from the giggling girls Narcissa remembered. 

“Any celebrations would be premature at best. We still have to extract it and destroy it,” Severus admonished her. Narcissa couldn't remember him ever looking anything other than grim. 

“I assume you require my assistance?” she asked. 

“Correct. Have you informed Lucius of your changed allegiance yet?” 

“No.” It came out clipped, despite Narcissa's attempt to sound breezy. Just because she could see that she had to do this, had to change their course or their family would be annihilated just like Andromeda's had been, didn't mean Lucius would agree. “He'll come around.” 

“If we are successful, certainly,” Snape agreed. “One has to be practical.” 

Narcissa felt something hot creeping up her décolletage. “Lucius will see reason.” 

“Lucius is in the fortunate position of having a wife and son who will go to extraordinary lengths to compensate for his tendency to pick the wrong option. Not that he'd ever admit that.” 

Narcissa silently agreed – the knack to managing Lucius was always to let him believe he knew best, even when you were steering him carefully towards the desired outcome. Not that she'd ever admit that, even to Snape. 

“What would you like me to do?” she asked instead. “I could arrange to see Bella, she won't be suspicious.” 

They hatched their plans in the gloomy pub, unseen by Muggles and wizards alike. Snape's dark eyes glowed as he laid out a precise path towards the destruction of another piece of his master's soul, and part of Narcissa pitied the Dark Lord. Severus was a formidable enemy, not least because he would wait patiently until he could pick a battle he could win. 

She could only hope he would be strong enough to deal the final blow when the time came. None of the rest of them would be able to – not Bradshaw, or Percy Weasley, or the other shadowy figures she recognised from Death Eater gatherings at the Manor. Draco wouldn't either, for all his talk of wanting to do whatever it took to overthrow the Dark Lord. 

As if he could tell what she was thinking, Severus asked: “And your son, Narcissa? What's the reason for his recent conversion?” 

“He informs me you have better outfits than the Dark Lord.” 

“Naturally. I'm not inclined to be _showy_.” 

No, thought Narcissa, and your robes billow entirely naturally. 

Severus was still waiting for an answer. She would have to tell him the truth, or at least what she reckoned it was. 

“He doesn't want – Astoria thinks Scorpius might be a Squib. He's almost ten...“ Narcissa didn't know exactly what happened to Squibs once the Muggle-Born Registration Commission found them; nor did she think Scorpius was one, given the Rosier tendency for magic to manifest late, but she wasn't about to argue now that Draco finally had seen sense. With Draco's help, she might be able to bring the Malfoys through this safely. 

Perhaps. 

“Severus, will you promise me – “

“I'll promise you nothing,” he interrupted her, not unkindly but with finality. “Nothing except this: I will bring him down, no matter what the cost.” 

The unnatural light from the cheap neon lamps around the bar etched even deeper shadows than usual into his face, and Narcissa shivered. Severus looked like a condemned man, and she didn't doubt his sincerity. He would defeat the Dark Lord, but he no longer held any hope he would survive the experience. 

Well, they would see about that. Narcissa may as well try to save three men from the consequences of their folly as two, and by now she had quite a lot of experience to aid her. Despite his own best efforts, she would make sure Severus Snape got a happy ending. 

All they had to do was to destroy a few Horcruxes and defeat one of the most powerful wizards that ever lived – what could possibly go wrong?

**THE END**


End file.
